Double Standard
by Lady Dudley
Summary: When Molly sprains her ankle whilst helping Sherlock on a case, it exposes his double standard when it comes to her and John. Implied Sherlolly.


**A/N: I'm not particularly co-ordinated and I nearly slipped over whilst walking the dog the other day, but it resulted in some inspiration. Bit silly and hopefully not OOC. Hope you like!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_**Double Standard**_

"I'm sorry," Molly apologised for what seemed like the millionth time as Sherlock continued to carry her, piggy-back style, through the countryside.

"It was an accident, Molly," Sherlock replied absently, "it could have happened to anyone."

"I bet John would have seen the rabbit hole," she mumbled, her sulky tone making Sherlock smirk.

"Perhaps," Sherlock agreed, "but he would have been much heavier to carry."

He paused at the crest of the small hill they were climbing to take in the landscape, before continuing on.

"I'm slowing you down," Molly commented as he paused again.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock countered, "this is a reconnaissance mission, not a marathon."

"You could just leave me here and then come back for me," she suggested as he stopped to assess the best way of fording the stream they'd come across.

Sherlock shot her a dark look over his shoulder. "You're injured," he reminded her, "I'm not going to leave you somewhere unable to defend yourself," he added, sounding almost offended by the suggestion.

"I feel like I've let you down," she said quietly.

"Don't be stupid, Molly," he admonished her, "I wouldn't have asked you to come with me if I thought that was even a possibility."

Molly wasn't quite sure how to respond to his statement, but he was too engrossed in crossing the stream to really notice and they completed the rest of their mission in relative silence.

Two days later, Molly's ankle still hadn't healed and she was sitting in the morgue going over some paperwork when Sherlock burst into the room with John in his wake.

"I need to have another look at the victim," Sherlock announced, barely glancing in her direction, "don't get up, it won't take long," he added, striding passed where she was sitting.

"What happened to you? Are you all right?" John asked, concerned as he noticed the crutches sitting near her chair.

Molly tore her gaze from Sherlock to smile at John, "I'm fine," she assured him, "I twisted my ankle when Sherlock asked me to help him spy on a suspect."

"We were _observing_, not spying," Sherlock corrected absently from where he was hovering over the body he'd rolled out.

"Observing then," Molly amended with a small smile. "It was my own fault, really," she continued, turning back to John, "I fell down a rabbit hole."

"Unfortunate," John commented with an amused smile.

"Very," she agreed with a small giggle, suddenly struck by the absurdity of the incident.

"But at least that explains why he insisted on stopping for coffee on our way here," John added, handing Molly one of the takeaway coffees from the tray he carried.

"Thank you," Molly said as she accepted the cup, looking a little bewildered as she glanced between the two men.

"I hope he treated you better than he treated me when _I_ sprained my ankle on a case," John said in a conversational tone as he took a seat next to Molly, picking up his own coffee as he did so.

"You really need to let that go," Sherlock remarked before John could continue, zipping up the body bag.

"All I did was trip over a tree root," John replied defensively, "and you made it out to be the end of the world."

"I brought you along to help me _observe_ and you fell over a _tree_," Sherlock retorted as he shut the body back in the drawer.

"It was dark!" John protested, "_And_ he just left me there to fend for myself," he added, turning back to Molly as Sherlock pulled out his phone and began typing out a message.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he pocketed his phone, "Yes, well, as _scintillating_ as this conversation is, we have work to do."

"Fine," John grumbled, standing up, "feel better soon," he said kindly to Molly before heading towards the door.

Sherlock paused by Molly's desk to collect his own coffee from the tray, "Why didn't you leave _me_ behind?" Molly asked in an undertone.

Sherlock looked genuinely confused by her question, "Because you're Molly," he said finally, taking his coffee and striding away to join John.

Molly watched him go in confusion, "Since when has _that_ ever made a difference?" she asked the now empty room. Shaking her head with a sigh, she turned back to her paperwork; only to jump a few minutes later as her phone received a message.

_Leaving you behind was never a viable option – too distracting. I know you can fend for yourself, but I preferred to keep you with me – SH._

_PS: John was exaggerating, his pride was hurt more than his ankle._

Molly stared at her phone, knowing that this was the closest Sherlock was ever going to come to admitting that he had been concerned about her.

She was still wondering how to respond when a second message came through:

_Don't forget to text me the results for the experiment from Monday, they should be ready soon – SH._

Molly couldn't help the giggle that escaped as she read the message, clearly she was not meant to respond to his momentary lapse into sentimentality. She took the hint and only replied to his second message, but the content of his first kept a smile on her face for the rest of the day.


End file.
